


requiem (tell me it was for the good)

by silkbonnet



Category: Grey's Anatomy, Station 19 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 15:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30057396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkbonnet/pseuds/silkbonnet
Summary: Carina is tired of premature endings.
Relationships: Andrew Deluca & Carina Deluca, Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca
Comments: 33
Kudos: 92





	requiem (tell me it was for the good)

**Author's Note:**

> here’s a cobbled together something about carina coming to terms with the loss of her brother. the greys classic, ‘in my veins’ by andrew belle was my unofficial soundtrack

-

 _Bring me to your house and tell me_  
 _Sorry for the mess, "Hey I don't mind"_  
 _You're talking in your sleep, out of time_  
 _Well you still make sense to me, your mess is mine_  
  
— **mess is mine, vance joy.**

.

Andrea’s teeth are stained red and he’s trying to speak but his words keep melting into choked gurgles. The blood is coming too fast and small bubbles are collecting at the corners of his mouth, crimson. 

Carina tries to quell the bleeding—one hand on Andrea’s stomach while the other digs into her pocket. 

It takes some maneuvering, but she grabs her phone and pulls it out. Her fingers are covered in Andrea’s blood and her thumb slides on the screen, leaving dark red streaks when she tries to press a number. Panic swells in Carina’s chest when the screen goes dark, but Maya is there before Carina can think. 

Maya is there, moving through the gathering crowd with rapt efficiency, until she’s by Carina’s side. 

“EMS is on the way, just a few minutes out,” she says. She shoots Carina a worried look, then carefully takes over for her, because Carina’s hands are shaking too much to be of any real help. 

“Press down,” Carina whispers and Maya nods, looking between her and Andrea, opening her mouth then closing it, like she knows whatever she has to say will be of no comfort. 

Carina is trying to hold it together but she looks down at Andrea, hears his labored breaths and starts to cry. Low shuddering sobs that stick in her throat and refuse to stop. She’s a doctor, she should be used to this, to blood and injury and thready pulses that grow even fainter under her fingers. 

But, Andrea isn’t her patient, and after Carina lifts his head onto her lap—the least she can do to help keep him together—she runs a hand down the side of his face, feels how clammy his skin is, the way his eyes have started to droop, the way he’s stopped trying to speak. 

“It’s okay, Andrea,” Carina lies, because she’s sure he’s scared and she doesn’t have anything else to offer him but useless phrases. 

She keeps saying it, repeats it like a prayer, tries to inject hope into her voice, tries not to feel like she’s failing him.

*

_Carina is the oldest, the one who does everything first and passes it down._

_She learns to talk first and walk first and even gets the wrath of their father first. This, she tries to shield her brother from but Andrea is like a puppy, not yet housebroken. He keeps coming back for more. Carina can take it, because she knows Papa isn’t well, knows even at seven that her father isn’t like all the other fathers; he doesn’t hug or kiss or like it when he notices them playing near him. Andrea keeps hoping and their father keeps breaking his heart and Andrea doesn’t understand why Vincenzo yells or won’t pick him up or play with them. He comes back and comes back and comes back and eventually Carina starts to make up excuses, because Andrea keeps asking and Mamma sleeps all the time now, so it’s up to her to help Andrea understand._

*

Maya says, “we’re driving as fast as we can without crashing.” 

Carina wants to tell her that she doesn’t care, that they still need to go faster, because her brother is fading away and they need to be at the hospital _now_. 

She doesn’t lash out because some small, rational part of her knows this isn’t Maya’s fault. She takes a deep breath instead, looks back down at her brother. 

Andrea is struggling underneath his oxygen mask, and he pulls it down slightly. "I forgot how bossy you can be," he groans. 

Carina’s breath hitches at how weak he sounds and she takes his hand away, rights the mask on his face and tells him, with a cracked voice, not to remove it again. 

Andrea’s response is a nod so slight it barely counts, but his hand in hers is solid and warm, so Carina focuses on that, lets it ground her. 

/

They won’t let Carina go with him to the OR and she understands why but her feet move towards Andrea all the same. Maya stops her with a gentle hand on her hip, moves her backwards so they can wheel Andrea out but as they pass by, Carina finds Andrea’s hand and squeezes it, lets the fact that he squeezes back and calls out her name soothe her, because he’s talking and aware and that’s good. 

The logical side of Carina that went through years of medical training and knows how this could turn out, the side that’s currently calculating odds and trying to mentally parse out his exact injures is fighting a winning battle against the side of her that believes in things like hope and miracles. It makes Carina want to follow Andrea despite the warning, because she needs to see to it that he’s fixed correctly. 

Maya is still holding onto her and when Carina tries to take a step she holds her in place, firmly. Turns Carina around so she’s facing her and grabs her hand. Looking down at Maya’s steady hands against her trembling ones, both of them covered in drying blood makes Carina feel faint. 

“We’re going to get you cleaned up, okay?” Maya’s voice is gentle, possibly the quietest Carina has ever heard her. She points to Carina’s sweater and when she looks down, she sees blood smeared messily in the middle, like a garish painting. There’s blood on the sleeves of her jacket as well, even more than is caked on her palms, so she nods, wordlessly. 

She follows Maya to her office, hands her the keys to open the door and stays standing outside the room until Maya carefully ushers her in. 

Turning on the lights, Maya closes the door behind them, takes Carina by the elbow and leads her to the bathroom. She sits her on the closed toilet seat and turns on the tap. 

The bathroom is small, barely wide enough for one person and after Maya wets a washcloth, she kneels in front of Carina, takes her hands and starts to wipe the blood way. Starts to wipe Andrea away. 

Carina stills at the her touch and takes back her hand. Maya doesn’t reach out again, just meets her eyes and stares, uncertain. 

“Carina—” 

“Don’t.”

Maya’s eyebrows knit together and she worries at her lip but stays quiet. This time, when she reaches out—slowly, like Carina’s some skittish animal that needs warning—Carina lets her take her hand. Maya doesn’t try to clean it again, she just holds it. Brings up her other hand to palm at Carina’s jaw and runs her thumb softly across her cheek. 

The repetitive movement calms Carina, but only a little bit. 

She can’t stop trembling; her brother was as close to death as she’d ever seen him and there was nothing she could do about it. She knows Owen and every one else working on Andrea are beyond qualified, but she still feels like she should be be with him. 

Carina’s been trying to make sense of it, of how everything unravelled so quickly. 

She should have stopped him when he got that glint in his eye, when he insisted on taking on those people alone, his guilt clouding his reasoning and making him believe he had to atone for his past efforts. What’s more, she should have locked the doors in the car before he could get out, made him sit and wait for the authorities because they were an army of two against actual criminals and if she’d been able to say no to him, he would be fine right now. She should have acted like an older sibling and not enabled him, because now Andrea is hurt and it’s her fault and she’s supposed to protect him but she keeps getting it wrong. 

She couldn’t convince him to take a break months ago, couldn’t convince him to monitor his moods or to care for himself, and now that he’s finally okay, she’s gone and ruined it. 

She doesn’t realize she’s started to cry again, silent sticky sobs until she feels herself being rocked. Somehow, she’s ended up on the floor, and Maya’s got her engulfed in her arms, has her fingers carding through Carina’s hair. 

Maya doesn’t say anything, she just holds Carina and lets her cry until her body exhausts itself.

Carina doesn’t want assurances because they won’t make Andrea better but she keeps thinking of all the ways she could have prevented this; all the things she should have done instead.

“I should have stopped him,” Pulling back from Maya’s embrace, Carina wipes furiously at her face. “I could have made him listen. I should have done more to make him—“

Carina doesn’t go on, the truth of her words stealing her breath away. Maya takes her hand and holds it tightly, stopping Carina from attacking her eyes in furious motion, roughly trying to stop her tears at the source. 

“Carina, this isn’t your fault.” Maya sounds surprised that she would even say that and Carina understands because Maya might have a brother too, but they aren’t close. Just last month Maya told her that she doesn’t even know where Mason is. It’s not the same at all, Carina thinks. It’s petty and unkind, but Carina doesn’t have it in her to be anything more than that, right now.

“You couldn’t have stopped this, Carina.” It’s a good try, but Maya’s wrong. 

“Yes, I could.” 

"Carina—"

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Maya’s face folds in on itself, goes from confusion to comprehension to pure sadness, and Carina wants to take it back, but the words are already out, hardening in the space between them. 

“You’re right,” Maya says, slowly. “I don’t understand. But I want to,” she sounds desperate to help, to make this better. 

Carina doesn’t want to talk it out. She wants to be doing something useful. She ducks out of Maya’s grasp, away from gentle hands and too sad eyes that are screaming, ‘tell me how to fix this’.

“I have to—“ the words she wants are out of reach, her mind racing. She wants to rewind, wants to switch places with her brother and she doesn’t know how to tell Maya any of it. 

“Carina?” 

“I have to go.” It’s the only thing that make sense. “I have to go, because Andrea will wake up and he’ll be scared and I should. Be there.” 

Carina's voice gives out and when she stands and catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she doesn’t recognize the person blinking back at her. Her eyes are red rimmed and puffy, and Andrea’s blood is still everywhere; drying on her hands, her neck, her clothes. 

It makes her itch. 

She starts pulling at her jacket, but her hands are shaking too much get a good grip. Maya covers her hands with hers, calms her agitated movements and helps rid her of the jacket, then her sweater.

“We can go see your brother but let’s get you clean first, okay? You’ll feel better.” Maya has a hand on her waist, calm, and she sounds so sure that Carina just nods. The burst of frenzied energy she had just a second ago has dissipated and she slumps into Maya’s waiting arms.

She lets Maya sit her back on the toilet. Lets Maya take her hands and unfurl them; lets her clean her palms and knuckles with the dampened washcloth. 

Watching the rag go from white to red is too much, so Carina looks out into her office instead. Maya finishes with the pink cloths and wets another one. It’s cold, and as she dabs it over Carina’s eyes and across her cheeks, she welcomes the coolness. 

“All done,” Maya says, after. 

Carina doesn’t react, just blinks, unseeing. Something vacant has settled over her she’s leaning into it because numbness is better than aimless guilt. 

Maya glances down at Carina, and her face gets even more tense and worried at whatever she sees. But her voice stays deceptively light. “Do you have anything in the back? Maybe some scrubs?” 

Carina shrugs. 

“I’m just going to check, okay? One sec.”

Maya comes back with nothing. “We need to find you something to wear. I’m going to give you my jacket and then we’ll head to the gift shop, get you a shirt or something, okay?”

“I don’t want to go to the gift shop.”

"Carina—"

“Just go. I’ll be fine.”

Maya looks conflicted about leaving her alone but Carina does need something to wear. 

“Really, Maya.” Carina steadies her voice, and meets Maya’s eyes, faking more calm than she feels, because she needs a moment alone to sink in on herself without Maya’s dedicated care and attention. 

“Go, it’s okay. I’ll wait here.” 

Maya bites her lip, considering. Carina holds out a hand, more for Maya’s sake than hers, but when their palms meet, she finds she doesn’t want to let go. 

“Maya, I’ll be fine.”

Maya doesn’t look like she entirely believes her, but she presses a kiss to Carina’s forehead and nods. 

“I’ll be right back. 

*

_Andrea was born on the hottest day of the year, right in the middle of August, two months before Carina’s fourth birthday. When Mamma brought him home, Carina took one look at his face and burst into tears, which made the baby cry, too._

_She had wanted a sister, and even when her Mamma’s stomach got really big and she told Carina she was getting a baby brother, she didn’t really believe her. She prayed for a sister, a real prayer, not the ones her parents said before they ate sometimes that were more like poems. She didn’t always remember, but when she did, she made sure to close her eyes and ask, in her nicest voice:_

a sister, please. a sister, thank you.

_Every Sunday, before they enter the chapel, she touches the knee of the statue in front of their church because it is the highest point she can reach. She’d heard the old nuns whispering that the Mother Mary hears all prayers and Carina needs everyone who can grant wishes to listen, so she taps at chipped stone and prays to the Mother Mary, too._

_Her own mother keeps telling her about her brother, about how he’s growing strong and will be here soon and Carina listens, but in her mind she corrects brother to sister._

_She doesn’t get a sister._

_She gets a brother. Andrea, who cries too much and takes all of Mamma’s attention away and makes Papa frown because he doesn’t like noise—quiet, Carina, or you cannot stay with me, I have to work—and babies are the nosiest things in the world._

_Baby Andrea cries a lot, even when Carina doesn’t pinch him and Mamma says it’s because that’s just what babies do, but Carina doesn’t think so. She certainly never cried like that._

_Andrea is also very strange looking; he has bright eyes and pink gums and no hair at all._

_He looks like a tomato. Mamma doesn’t like it when she says that, so Carina doesn’t say it when she’s around, but she can’t stop Carina from thinking it._

_She asks Mamma when he’ll be able to talk, and Mamma laughs, tells Carina to be patient, because it will be a while. Years and years, she says._

*

The chapel isn’t a place Carina visits often. Or at all. The first time she entered was also the last, on her first day of work when Andrea gave her a tour of the entire hospital. 

She’s lighting candles and trying to recall one of the verses she learned during the hours and hours of mass she sat through as a child, but nothing comes to mind other than The Beatitudes.

She says all of them, fumbling over the last two, and starts from the beginning, again and again; four times even.

Carina’s a bit of a lapsed catholic; she doesn’t really pray and she hasn’t been to church in years. Once her mother left, her father decided services were a waste of time, ‘out dated myths retold,’ he’d said. He stopped taking her and Carina hasn’t been to church since.

She’s not sure why she’s even here, or if there’s anyone listening. But after she put on the sweater Maya got her, she couldn’t stand to be in her office anymore. 

She’d started walking because she couldn't stay still. She'd had no destination in mind, but when she passed the chapel she’d entered without thinking. Now, she’s mumbling prayers and struggling to turn on a candle, because her hands won’t stay still. 

Maya comes up behind her, takes the candle and lights it for her. 

They sit and she listens as Carina tells her about her mother and her brother, as she tries to make Maya understand that he’s her other, and that she should have been better about keeping him together. 

Maya listens and when Carina can’t go on, when words fail, she looks to Maya, like she has the answer. 

Maya’s eyes are wide and her mouth twitches like she wants to say something but she hesitates. Opening her arms, she draws Carina to her instead, but as she runs a careful hand down Carina’s back, she starts speaking. Her words are too low for Carina to really make out but the little she catches sounds like the Hail Mary.

Carina lets the prayer wash over her, faintly remembering that while Maya isn't religious, she does have brief years of catholic school behind her. 

Maya eventually stops and Carina doesn’t speak, just holds on to her like an anchor in the commotion. They stay like that, silent but together, until Teddy and Owen come to find them. 

They tell Carina that everything went well, that Andrea is strong and recovering in post-op. 

Carina thanks them and hugs Maya to her tightly, feels relief so overwhelming, she sways with the force of it. 

Teddy and Owen leave, then, but Carina catches up with them before they can get too far. She asks if she can see Andrea and Owen says it’ll be a while yet before he wakes—which she already knows—but Teddy says it’s fine and leaves as she’s paged. 

“Andrea’s okay,” Carina tugs Maya close and hugs her again, takes her face in her hands and kisses her soundly, just once. She feels Maya smile against her mouth and she smiles herself because she was in an in-between space, with all the waiting, holding herself together by inches, but Andrea is okay. He’ll have a ways to go until he’s fully healthy, but he’s going to recover; the world makes sense, again. 

*

_Andrea gets matched to his first choice hospital and he calls Carina in the middle of the night to tell her. She’s half awake and fully annoyed because it’s a quarter past three and she has early rounds tomorrow, but she stays on the phone anyway. And when Andrea tells her about his plans—an internship at this Grey Sloan Hospital he’s been talking about for months—about an eventual fellowship in cardiology or general surgery, he's not yet sure, but she hears the elation in his voice even as he tries not to speak too loudly and wake his roommate._

_"You’re copying me a bit, aren’t you?” Carina says, sitting up in bed._

_She can tell he’s rolling his eyes when he replies with a sarcastic, “yeah right.”_

_Andrea has spent years trying to sort out his career; first it was social work, but he said that was too sad; and then it was teaching, but he grew bored of that quickly; next was emergency response, which propelled him to medical school._

_Both parents are in medicine—their mother teaches and their father still practices, a general surgeon—and while Andrea leaned away from their influence, for Carina, there’d never been any question as to what she wanted to do. Her father was always busy and rarely allowed them into his office but sometimes, when he was on an upswing or he was feeling sociable, he’d pick Carina up and drop her in his big chair, take one of his textbooks off his bookshelf and explain all the diagrams to her._

_On his best days, he’d give her his old books and let her color them in while he worked. Would go over his latest procedures with her, tell her about surgeries like cutting a man open, digging into his abdomen, and then stitching him back up and sending him home. It sounded exciting and fascinating and one day, when Carina asked if she could see a picture—a real picture—her father hadn’t hesitated. He’d pulled out one of the medical journals from his desk drawer and opened it to a page that had bloody images of doctors at work._

_That’s how her mother found them, with their heads bent over a thick article while her father explained to Carina exactly what was happening to the people in the pictures and why._

_Lucia had not been pleased. She’d said the images were, ‘too graphic and did Vincenzo really think explaining intricate medical procedures to a child was wise?’_

_Vincenzo didn’t see the harm and it had never occurred to Carina that the pictures and stories should be scary, because she liked learning and she liked that her father wanted to teach her, spend time together. But her parents had started to fight, loudly, like they’d been doing a lot lately._

_Carina didn’t want to listen, but she was stuck, her mother blocking the door. Crawling into the space behind her fathers desk, she’d pressed her hands over her ears and tried to drown them out._

_Andrea says, “hey, did you fall alseep?” and his voice pulls Carina from the memory._

_“I’m here, just tired. But I’m very proud of you, Andrea.”_

_He scoffs but she can tell he’s pleased._

_They chat a little bit more, catch up, and before they hang up Andrea reminds Carina about his graduation._

_“You have to come,” Andrea says. “Mamma’s making a big deal about it and she’s got all the cousins and even Aunt Rafaella coming. And they all still tease me about my accent, so you have to come or else I’ll have no one to talk to.”_

_“I’ll be there.”_

_“I’m serious, you missed Mamma’s birthday last year and I know you’re busy at that fancy private hospital but schedule some time off now.”_

_“Fine, I’ll make sure. Scout’s honor.”_

_It’s a silly thing Andrea taught her when they were children and she’d visited him abroad for the first time._

_“It’s like a promise, but more official,” Six year old Andrea had said, his chubby face as serious as ever._

_Adult Andrea now laughs when she says it but he repeats it. “Scout’s honor. You can even bring your weird hippy girlfriend.”_

_“Isla isn’t weird—"_

_“You literally met her on a commune—"_

_"And we broke up."_

_"Oh,” Andrea says. “Are you okay?”_

_“I’m fine. Just don’t tell Mamma, she’ll call and ask too many questions and really, it was just casual sex—"_

_“Okay! Hanging up now!” Andrea groans._

_Carina snorts, rolling her eyes at his prudishness. “I have to go back to sleep anyway. But text me the details, okay?”_

_“Yeah, sure. Good night Carina.”_

_“Good night Andrea.”_

*

Andrea can’t talk because he’s still on the ventilator so Carina sits and does the talking for the both of them. Her eyes are wet when she tells him how glad she is to see him, as she reminds him how stupid his actions were and tells him never to scare her like that ever, _ever_ again. 

His eyes brighten, even though his face is bleary and tinged with painkillers. Carina knows if it wasn’t for the vent he’d be giving her some smart assed comment, would be excitedly recounting their day like it was a voluntary adventure, and not one of the most harrowing days of their lives. Andrea’s always been able to move forward with this casual ease that Carina has never quite mastered, but right now she needs him to understand that what he did was reckless. 

On both their parts. 

In Italian, Carina says, “I’m sorry,” and Andrea raises an eyebrow. 

“We should have waited. I should have made us wait but I didn’t and you got hurt and—“

Andrea shakes his head and makes low muffled sounds and Carina looks up sharply. 

“Are you in pain?” She asks and Andrea blinks once, their code for no. 

She figures pretty quickly that this blink-once-blink-twice routine isn’t going to work, so she takes out her phone, now wiped clean, and pulls up the Notes app. 

Holding it up to Andrea, she enlarges the keyboard so he doesn’t have to strain to see. He taps at the screen with one finger, slow, and when he’s done he gestures at Carina to read it. 

He’s typed out: _n.ot you. fault. dont apologize._

Fresh tears spring into Carina’s eyes when she reads it, because she doesn’t believe him but Andrea finds her hand on his bed and squeezes it; he stares at her like he’s trying to will her into believing it too, so she just nods. 

“Okay, Andrea.” 

He squints like he doesn’t buy it, so Carina says it again, with a little more conviction, though secretly, she doesn’t feel at all absolved of her guilt. “Fine, it wasn’t my fault.”

Andrea nods, finally satisfied, as he settles back into the bed. 

“I’m still sorry you got hurt,” Carina says, touching his arm carefully. 

Andrea holds up a thumb, which Carina takes to mean, “me too.” 

She allows herself a small smile, because even now, he’s somehow found the energy to cheer her up. 

Now that she’s assured that he’s fine, she catches him up on family gossip. She's telling him about a ridiculous conversation she had with their grandmother, when Maya comes back from her call. 

“Hey Andrew, you really had us worried there,” Maya says, smiling at him. “All good here?” 

Carina nods. “Do you need to leave?”

Maya shakes her head, walks over to Carina and leans down slightly. Wrapping her arms around her neck, she rests her chin on Carina head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Maya says. “Not unless you want me to, okay?” 

Carina lets out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding in and smiles.“Okay.”

It’s been the worst day, but Maya has been attentive and patient and she’s clearly out of her element but she stayed. She’s here and Carina loves her for that because she’s not sure she could have done this alone. 

“I do think you should eat something, though,” Maya says. 

It’s been hours since they arrived at the hospital and even longer since Carina woke up this morning. Almost a full day. Usually, Carina has a snack or two by now but with all the upheaval it hadn’t crossed her mind.   
  
“I’m not really hungry, but—“

“You need to pee,” Maya finishes. She shrugs when Carina tilts her head to look up at her. “You’ve been bouncing on one foot and now, you keep squirming. It’s fine, go. I’ll stay with him,” Maya offers.

Carina hesitates. 

Andrea is on the verge of sleep but he opens his eyes and waves her away, so she kisses his cheek and doesn’t feel too bad about leaving. It’ll only be a second, because she really does have to pee, and Maya is here; she’ll take care of him. 

*

_It’s Carina’s twenty-first birthday and Andrea is visiting. They’re in Germany, because it’s the first stop in their mini road trip. He’s taller than her now, but Carina still introduces him to her friends as her baby brother. Which makes them laugh but makes Andrea blush, bright red. On the bus he asks her why she can’t be cool, just for once in her life, and she laughs because he might be taller now, but his whining is proof that he's still a kid._

_He might be taller and have some hair masquerading as a beard on his face, but sometimes Carina looks at him and sees the little boy who used to beg her to play with him. As a baby, at his most agreeable—after he’d been fed—he’d let her put bows in his hair and dress him up in her old clothes and sometimes even let her read to him._

_Carina couldn’t really read yet, she was only a toddler herself, but she knew what all the books said because Papa read them to her so she would just recite them. Andrea was too little to know the difference. He’d sit quietly with a toothless grin, sometimes falling asleep in the middle of a story, but it was okay because most of the time Carina would forget the ending._

_She doesn’t know if it’s because they were prematurely separated, or if every older sibling feels like this, but sometimes she looks at him and sees the same baby that used to waddle after her, and she knows he's a man in his own right but she still feels fiercely protective over him._

*

Carina ends up in the cafeteria after using the washroom because she’s actually quite hungry and it’s only one floor down from Andrea’s room. She uses the last of her battery to tell Maya she’s made a pit stop, sends a text about getting some coffee and a snack before her phone blinks off. The main kiosk is unattended to and the coffee machine is down, so she grabs a bag of chips and slips a cup of that horrendous green gelatin Maya likes into her pockets. She’ll come back around to pay later because she’s spent enough time away from Andrea as it is. She really must be getting back. 

Carina makes it to Andrea’s room, food in hand and ready to continue their conversation but Maya is standing outside, frowning, and Andrea’s room is empty. At once, Carina forgets about the food and her heart starts to race; she stills where her stands. 

"Where—"

“Owen took him back into surgery. He said something about a DIC? I don’t know what—“

Carina tunes Maya out and takes a step into Andrea’s room. Drops of his blood are everywhere, a dark red varnish on the floor, pooled in the middle of the room.

“Maybe we should wait downstairs. Or in your office?” Maya enters the room and tries to turn Carina around, to make her stop looking at the tiles.

“I’m staying here.”

Maya doesn’t ask again. 

/

The first hour passes slowly, Carina silent as she waits. She’s leaning against the wall, thrumming with energy, when she sees Schmitt walk by. Darting out of the room, she corners him, asks why he’s out in the halls and not in surgery. He tells her he switched with one of the new residents because he’s more qualified and Carina knows she shouldn’t, but she makes Schmitt describe exactly what happened after she left. He gets as far as Andrea’s cracked chest, before she starts to cry. 

“Keep going,” Carina doesn’t acknowledge her tears.

Schmitt looks unsure, and from the side of her eye Carina sees Maya glance at him and shake her head. 

“You should go,” Maya tells him, kindly. 

He looks between them but when Carina doesn’t speak he takes his leave. 

“I just wanted to—"

“I know,” Maya pulls her into a hug and Carina buries her face in her neck. “I know.”

/

Another hour passes and Maya convinces Carina to at least sit on the chairs just outside of Andrea’s room. Sinking into the hard plastic, Carina tries to pray, offers everything she has to a god she’s not sure she believes in and begs for her brother to come out of this. 

This can’t be how it ends; Andrea is so young, has so much more living to do. 

Her mother is gone and her father is alive but has been lost to her for years. Her brother is the last of her immediate family and she needs him here. Needs him alive. 

Mamma died without warning and Carina wanted more time but she couldn’t change things and she can’t do anything for Andrea now, but they’re in a hospital filled with tools to fix him. He’ll be fine; he’ll come out of this with a scar and a smile and he’ll be fine. He won’t leave her like their mother did, quick and silent and all at once. 

*

_Death comes for her mother in the middle of the night. Steals away her breath and leaves her cold in Carina’s bed._

_Her Mamma had come to visit, was waiting at the front door when Carina got home and she’d given her the bed because the couch was lumpy and her mother was old; Carina didn’t want her to hurt her back._

_She was excited to show her mother around because her flat was the first place she’d ever had that was all hers. She’d decorated it just the way she liked; painted the walls bright and loud because no one could tell her not to, had plants everywhere, and left her clothes on the floor if she felt like it. She saved for the furniture, picked out a bed that was expensive, but worth it and got her room exactly to her liking. It’s her very own space and she’s proud of it. But then Lucia DeLuca goes and dies in Carina’s bed, slips away in the middle of the night and Carina wants to go right along with her. When arrangements have been made for the body and her mother is taken away, Carina can't make herself enter her bedroom._

_The entire flat is heavy with death and haunted with loss and when Carina finally enters she can’t imagine ever having once found solace in a place like this._

_Two weeks later, she moves out._

*

Another hour comes and goes and there is no word. Carina starts to think the worst. Her hand in Maya's goes limp, and she stands. Starts to pace the hallway. 

/ 

Teddy and Owen are coming down the stairs, walking one after the other in stilted formation and Carina knows. 

_She_ _knows_ , before Teddy gets close with tears in her eyes. Knows before Owen starts talking, his voice rough and deep with regret. Before they get close or speak or do anything. 

Carina just knows, from the minute she sees them, brutal understanding sinks in and leaves her hollow.

Andrea has died. 

Teddy says they did everything they could and Carina’s legs buckle. She’s sinking to the ground, thinking of nothing except, Andrea, Andrea, Andrea. 

Andrea dying alone and scared; her little brother, who she’s only just gotten back, cold and gone and so far away. 

She doesn’t hit the ground because someone holds her up, but Carina blindly sticks out an arm and shoves them away, boiling anger and paralyzing sorrow mingling, blood rushing to her head and making her dizzy. She absorbs the touch as an invasion, before her mind registers it’s Maya. 

Maya holding her up and saying something, but her voice, the sounds of the hospital, they’ve all faded into white noise and tears are clouding Carina’s vision. 

Carina recoils from Maya, straightens so she’s at her full height and blinks hard to clear the tears from her eyes. 

She looks between Teddy and Owen, at the two who couldn’t save her brother and takes an unsteady step towards them. Towards Owen, who is saying, “I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” Like his words mean anything to her, now.

Carina vibrates with hatred for him because she asked _him_ , told _him_ specifically, to save her brother, and she knows nothing was promised, knows how severe Andrea’s injuries were, but right now all she wants is justice. She lifts a hand, to do what, she doesn’t know, but Owen evenly meets her gaze and she drops it. 

Andrea is gone and nothing will change that. Not violence or prayers or tears.

Carina looks down at her hands, at the last of Andrea’s blood, still underneath her fingernails; the bits Maya couldn’t reach with the cloth. She can still feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips, can still see his blood, thick and slippery and crimson, as it flowed from his body. 

Andrea is dead and nothing will bring him back and when Carina closes her eyes, his face is all that she sees. 

  
/

They have cleaned him well enough, but the body in front of Carina is not her brother because a collection of blood and tissue and sinewy muscles, greying and cold, does not a person make. 

Andrea has been dead for fifty seven minutes and Carina wishes—not for the first time—that it was her laying there on the morgue trolley, instead of him.

Thirty five years ago, their parents brought home a baby boy, and it wasn’t immediate, but love and care and loyalty grew between them because once Carina decided to love that squirming, bright faced baby, she never looked back. 

He might have been their child, but he was her brother and it soon became clear, that they were connected in a way Lucia and Vincenzo couldn't understand. Andrea would look to Carina when he was unsure, climbed into bed with her when he had a bad dream and wanted to do what she did, even when his tiny body could not. He’s her other, and the first time they were separated, the loss of him had felt like an ending.

Now, standing over her brother’s broken body, Carina realizes that the old pain was nothing. That was a minor hurt, because this, seeing her brother sallow and silent breaks something deep inside of her; she doesn’t cry because it’s more than physical, more than tears and sadness; this ache is something from which she will never recover. 

Carina doesn’t touch him, this hollowed out echo of her brother, because Andrea is not in there. All that belonged to him died the minute his heart stopped beating and she should have been there. 

Her brother is decaying, every second he lays there a reminder that Carina now has to go on without him. And as she looks at the body that once housed him, she wills him awake. It doesn't work. 

She keeps trying. 

/

Carina stands there for what seems like hours. Hours and hours. She is willing time to go backwards—

_Make the blood rush back into his body, back up his nose and into his chest, warm and covered; where it belongs._

She wants to go back further— 

_To before today, months ahead. Andrea tells her what he thinks and she listens and they catch the trafficker in the hallway, with a hand on the girls shoulder, so rough it’s leaving bruises; Andrea was right all along._

And further—

 _It’s her first day at work and they’re eating at the cafeteria. The food is terrible but the company is good and when Andrea tells her to stop seeing his roommate she says yes, whatever he wants, whatever will make him happy._

Even further—

_Andrea is eighteen and thinks he knows everything even though he’s never even had a drink and calls her for every little thing._

_-This or that, Carina?_

_-I don’t know, Andrea, just pick one._

_Andrea is fourteen and he likes a girl and he asks Carina what it feels like to be in love. She says it’s different for everyone, says she can’t describe it but when she thinks of love, it’s shaped like a really good day; tender warmth._

_Andrea is seven and he is pressing his favorite toy car into her hands, says that since they won’t see each other for a while she can keep it and take care of it. Give it back when she and Papa come back next time._

Next time had been years later.

This time, Carina doesn’t know when she’ll see him again. 

Carina’s life thus far has been filled with too many endings and not enough beginnings and Andrea says—

 _Used_ to say. 

Andrea used to say that she was an eternal optimist. Once, he’d asked her where she got all her hope from and she’d had no real answer for him, because she didn’t know, either. She’d supposed it came from the soft place behind her heart that refused to let any darkness settle or make its home there, even when it seemed like the only option. But right now, there is no joy. It fled from her body, like her brothers blood flowed from his body. Red and bright and staining the hospital tiles.

“Andrea.” 

Her voice echoes in the room as she calls for him. He doesn’t respond and the agonizing loss of him claws at her, but saying his name eats at the fear. Eats at the hollow loneliness that’s threatening to drown her, breaks it down into small digestible pieces. Something she can swallow; something she can understand. 

Andrea is dead. He took his last breath and has now joined their mother. Took all of Carina’s goodness and mercy right along with him and she is so very tired.

Carina stands still, alone, wondering if it was always meant to be like this. The two of them going where she cannot follow, leaving her behind, once again. 

—

**Author's Note:**

> watched the episode(s) again and by the time it ended, this was already half written in my head. because it was basically done in one sitting, editing is minimal but I tried to catch everything.
> 
> &, while ive got some ideas about how carina and maya would grieve as a couple, writing this was so much. so i probably won’t continue—bc when i asked for more of carina this was not what i meant???at all? but idk, it’s like the station 19 writers salivate at the thought of miss deluca suffering so here we are. they’ll be hearing from my lawyers! anyway, I wanted to get this out before the next episode but anything else i write will just be part of the series i started because i've decided to live in sweet delusion :)


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